


Was That A Dream or Was It True?

by Vanessa_Cocotea



Category: Doctor Who: Eighth Doctor Adventures - Various Authors
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-18
Updated: 2014-12-18
Packaged: 2018-03-02 02:46:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2796812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanessa_Cocotea/pseuds/Vanessa_Cocotea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From 2005:</p><p>He's REAL????</p>
            </blockquote>





	Was That A Dream or Was It True?

**Author's Note:**

> This was actually my first tribute to one of my favourite songs - A Nightingale Sang In Berkeley Square. It was originally written as a Christmas present for an acquaintance of mine - using her and her family's names, then - as it was such a good story, I did this "public" version, introducing my character, Alison Yardley. Then, after that, I did A THIRD version for myself, using my and my family's names! 
> 
> This needed an ENORMOUS amount of vetting, but I didn't want to tamper with it too much, as I like to see how my writing has progressed over the years.

She set her shopping bags on the pavement and carefully extracted the spill-proof travel tumbler, then meditatively sipped the hot tea as she gazed at the Holiday windows. She was in London to buy a few special gifts and simply for a bit of a break. She'd come by train as her car had decided to take Holiday break as well and was for in repairs. She reckoned she should hurry and get to the station as soon as possible, as she didn't fancy waiting in a train station at night. Well, it was hardly an unexpected result. She wouldn't be the first person to get so engrossed in what she was doing and lose track of the time.

She was also thinking, as she sipped the last of her tea, that whoever said Christmas shopping on the 24th of December was futile, had obviously never done it. She'd had no trouble finding what she'd wanted. She placed the tumbler in one of the bags and straightened up to take a last look at a particularly beautiful window. She'd have get a move on, to get home in time for Christmas Eve with Aisling and Andrew. She was taking that last look and marvelling at how incredible these windows always were, when she heard a man's voice beside her.

"Beautiful, aren't they? No matter where I travel, I always enjoy coming back to see the Holiday windows."

Her initial apprehension turned to incredulity as she saw the man beside her.

"Hello, Alison!" His ice-blue eyes twinkled at her. "Fancy meeting you here." She responded by promptly fainting away.

He caught her before she hit the pavement. As he picked her up, after first slinging her handbag and shopping over his arms, to carry her to "his place", he thought to himself that while he'd known the reaction would be strong, he hadn't considered actual fainting. Feeling a bit guilty, he knew the first thing he'd do, when she came to, was apologise. At least he'd remembered to get his key out before he picked her up.

She woke a few minutes later in the Victorian console room in the Doctor's reading chair, looked round, saw the Doctor smiling at her - and fainted again. "Oh, dear." He murmured. He really had to find a better way to do these things. The "Sherlock Holmes/ Empty House" approach was just too much for real life.

She woke again to find him offering, "Brandy or tea? I didn't know which you'd prefer, so I brought both." She was in such a state, she took both.

"I'm terribly sorry. For some reason, I never considered the possibility that you'd actually faint. Silly me. I am truly sorry." He noticed that she was looking round. "Oh yes, your things." He pointed. "They're just over there, safe and sound." She looked where he was pointing. Her outer garments were on a nearby chair along with her handbag. The shopping bags rested on the floor by the chair.

It seems that in human nature, when an unbelievable situation occurs, one too good to be true, the mind goes in a million directions at once. Things become confused and many things - priorities for example, get totally out of order. Which explains why - on finding out that this gorgeous fantastic fictional character was in fact REAL, the first thing she said was, "You carried all that? And me?"

He burst out laughing. "It wasn't any trouble I assure you. Just get out my key and slip the bags over my arms. Shifting you from one arm to the other to arrange the bags wasn't at all difficult. Neither was carrying you, you're quite light. No, that wasn't the difficult bit." He gently brought matters back to the ultimate subject. "Now, deciding exactly how to explain myself...now that's the difficult bit! But I'd say, getting an opportunity to start with just one of you - the Chestnut Girls - that's what you ladies call yourselves, isn't it?"

"Yes." At this point Alison opted to go with the flow. She was actually in the TARDIS with the Eighth Doctor, for Heaven's sake! The whole situation was too incredible for words. If she thought about it too much, she'd...well, she wasn't sure what would happen. God! He was even more gorgeous in person! Those eyes, they went right through one like liquid sapphire! And that smile would put a supernova to shame! "Oh, hell! I sound like some soppy teenager!" she thought.

"Alison?" God! Now it's that voice! What is it with this man and velvet? His voice. His coat. Right at the moment though, he was holding out his hand for her teacup. "Are you all right?"

"Convalescent."

"Good. Let me refill your tea, or would you like another brandy? Or both? You're still a bit shaken, I can tell." He refilled both and said, "You just relax while I try to explain things." Even the Doctor, used to all sorts of bizarre and unusual situations, found it necessary to down a quick brandy, before embarking on this particularly extraordinary oddity. Trying to explain being real to someone who believed you were fictional, was just about the weirdest experience he'd ever had. He downed the brandy in one gulp. Now he'd got to the tricky bit.

"The tricky bit is where do I begin? Being a time-traveller, the beginning is relative. It isn't a straightforward issue. So, well..." He faltered, then brightened. "Ah yes, good advice. Something one of my acquaintances once said about solving dilemmas, "Pick up what's in front of you." Yes. Excellent advice. In other words, start with the first thing that comes to mind and go from there." He smiled, visibly relieved, and began. "I have spent a great deal of time on Earth, as you know, particularly England, and I must confess, I...ahm...sort of...eavesdropped on a few Sci-Fi conventions. I debated a number of times whether to make myself known, but I wasn't sure what sort of effect it might have. Not wanting to cause chaos, I held back. Those cons - as you call them, seem quite fun, and it was easy to patch into the security cams. Yes, I know, that seems a bit naughty, but what can I say?" He shrugged his shoulders and grinned at her. She "tsked tsked" him and laughed. He continued on. "I got hooked. When the Chestnut Girls were formed - courtesy of my current self's inception, it became extremely hard to keep out of it. A number of questions went through my mind and, well...Oh blast! The truth is, I just couldn't take it any longer! I wanted to meet my friends from the Chestnut Girls and say thank you. When I saw you at the window, I reckoned it must have been meant to happen, and starting with just one of you would be easiest." He noticed her somewhat blank look. "Alison? You are all right, aren't you?"

"No. No. I'm fine now. But I'm still trying to take it all in." She was looking round the console room and noticed something else extraordinary. "What a tree! That is something else!" The Christmas tree was magnificent, reaching to the edge of the domed ceiling. She turned back to the Doctor. "I'm sorry. You were saying?"

"I was saying we could discuss everything later. We can talk about several things, such as your actor friend - excellent choice, excellent job and the resemblance is remarkable! But right now, how about a tour of the TARDIS? Then, afterwards, would you do me the honour of spending Christmas Eve with me? Don't worry, I can have you back in plenty of time to spend it with your family as well. I've finally got the gremlins out of the navigational circuits! So, will you?"

"Two Christmas Eves, huh?"

"Something of the sort. Well?"

"I can't say as I do that every year. Yes, of course. How can I refuse?" She smiled at him. He looked happy and actually relieved. She asked him. "By the way, where did you park the TARDIS at the conventions?"

He grinned a little wickedly, "Well, not all the TARDISes were "mock-ups"."

"You're joking!"

"No, sometimes the obvious answer is the best answer. Come on." He smiled, just like a little boy showing off a favourite toy. "There's a lot to see."

As they went through the doors to rest of the TARDIS, Alison found herself more relieved than actually surprised that the Doctor was real. Funny that. As they walked along the corridors they discussed all sorts of topics. She found that she could talk to him as though they'd been friends for years.

They'd come to the inevitable subject of the TV programme. The Doctor effusively praised Mr McGann's portrayal of him, "Or could I call him Paul?" He also expressed disappointment and disbelief that his eighth self had, as yet, been given only one TV adventure. She asked him what he thought of his "future selves" as imagined by the BBC. He said he found the situation quite alarming! Then he laughed and said that that had always been his reaction on discovering future incarnations of any kind. They debated various options to correct the situation in fairness to himself and his friends. The Doctor, half jokingly, suggested his storming into the BBC and demanding his and his friends' rights! That would REALLY put the "time-travelling cat amongst the vortex pigeons"! His next, and most obvious, suggestion was that he go back in time and cause things to be done right the first time. That was very tempting but, in the end, he and Alison decided that the most feasible, best and logical option was to plant a suggestion in the collective BBC brain and get them to do, "Doctor Who - The Missing Years - The Eighth Doctor Adventures". After all, that's what they were - the missing years. And in view of the fact that they'd already done that with a book series, there was no reason they couldn't do it with the television series. They reckoned it would be the fair and right thing to do, and it would make a lot of people very happy! And as the BBC had an annoying habit of waiting forever to correct their mistakes - "Think Shada!" Alison thought, they should be, after nearly ten years, just about ripe to correct this particularly nasty blunder. The Doctor told her not to give up, because, in science fiction, in particular, as long as the actor in question is alive and well, nothing is a "Fait Accompli". She had to agree. How many times had people been told that something was absolutely NOT going to happen, only to have it happen - with a vengeance! One particular circumstance came to mind and she smiled to herself.

"Ah, here we are. This always seems to be a favourite." The Doctor opened the door to the Butterfly room. Smiling, he held the door open for her. "After you." "Thank you." She went through and was immediately greeted by an Adonis Blue. The butterfly seemed very friendly and quite readily perched on her outstretched finger.

"That's Bellwen. She's one of my friendliest and most curious. She was the first to come to me when I came back from Ha'olam."

"Hello, Bellwen." She turned to the Doctor. "That's a pretty name. Very Welsh. How did you choose it?"

"I didn't. She told me."

"You speak Butterfly?" Alison asked, not really surprised.

"Not exactly. The TARDIS helped." He gave her that supernova grin again. They spent about half an hour meeting and chatting with some of the friendlier and more curious butterflies. Then it was time to move on.

He showed her all sorts of rooms. All the ones she'd heard of such as The Cloister room. There she met Jasper and Stewart. They were also very friendly, or so she thought. They flew past, gave a quick hello screech, and disappeared into the grove and garden area.

"Sorry about that. Their manners go bye-bye when it's dinnertime."

"It's quite all right!" She laughed.

Next came the Library, Pamper room, Beach room, Lab, and the Cinema - which was still showing "Son of Frankenstein" - in 3D! 3D?!?! She asked him where he'd got that, still thinking - 3D?! He told he'd had it so long he'd forgot! He asked if she'd like to see it later. She said that, yes, if they had time! They looked at each other - and laughed! She said,"Sorry!" She couldn't believe she'd said that! If they had TIME, indeed! They went on with the rest of the tour. The TARDIS was definitely the ultimate mobile home. And that wardrobe! Whoah! No self-respecting woman would want to leave that room!

Back in the console room, the Doctor set the sound system to play a variety of Christmas music and excused himself to check something on the console. When he turned round again, Alison was slowly swaying to the music, with her eyes closed. She'd unknowingly swayed herself to a position by the tree.

"Alison?" He gently enquired.

"What? Oh. Sorry." She smiled a little sheepishly.

"Don't apologise." He held out his hand. "Would you care to dance?"

"Oh...I...I...I'd love to..." She looked down at her clothes. They were fine for shopping, but for dancing in the TARDIS console room, in front of an enormous Christmas tree, with a man in velvet and linen and silk, they seemed very out of place. "But I'm not...well..." She faltered. She knew clothes didn't really matter and the Doctor wouldn't mind what she wore. Still, she wished she was wearing something else.

He noticed her unease, and although it really didn't matter to him what she was wearing, he could see it mattered to her.

"Alison, my dear, please, the wardrobe. It's at your disposal. Anything you like, it's yours."

"Oh, no...I wasn't...I didn't mean..." She flushed with embarrassment. "I couldn't."

"I know you weren't thinking of asking. No one ever does. But, yes, you can. Just go through. The TARDIS will help you."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, of course. Call it a Christmas present. Now scoot!" He smiled at her encouragingly, but he was thinking, "Why was everyone always so hesitant to choose clothes from the TARDIS wardrobe? That's what it was there for." He shook his head. Humans. They could be so shy at times.

She took off down the corridor, but soon realised that after three teas and two brandies, there was another room that had a more immediate importance. And almost immediately, she noticed the open door a few metres ahead. She walked into a magnificent marble bathroom, well stocked for every need, and just what one would expect in the TARDIS. The TARDIS, she concluded, must be psychic with everyone!

"She somewhat reluctantly left the bathroom after a few moments. It was so luxurious that she could get used to all this, and found herself diagonally across from the wardrobe room. The TARDIS had been moving rooms again. When she'd seen it before, with the Doctor, it was two doors down from the Cinema, no where near this close to the console room. With all room-changing going on, she wondered if the TARDIS herself ever got confused. Now that was an amusing thought! But once in the wardrobe, her thoughts turned to absolute awe as she started to gaze closer at rail upon rail of clothes! She just stood and stared.

 

"How do you get all this?" She asked the TARDIS, then thought, "Now I'm talking to the TARDIS. Great." She wondered where to start, then remembered the Doctor's advice, "Pick up what's in front of you." So she started with the nearest rail. She'd just started to remove something to look at it, when she noticed squares on the floor done in red and green chasing lights. The TARDIS knew just where to send her.

"Oh, I get it. Follow the red and green brick road!" She followed the lights straight to an area with at least a gross of rails filled with splendid Holiday clothes, some definitely not from Earth. She had no idea how long she looked at all the choices, but reckoned it must have been a good hour. In the end, tempting though everything was, she chose a simple but elegant pair of red silk lounging pyjamas with matching red velvet slippers. The outfit also had a matching red silk scarf. She would love to have chosen something more exotic, but where would she have worn it? Even at a convention it would have been too unusual. She was very pleased though with what she did choose, though. She gathered everything up to go back and show the Doctor and to say thank you. For once, the TARDIS left the rooms alone. The console room was only a few metres away.

"Beautiful! A lovely choice!" The Doctor said when she showed him. Then he looked at her rather quizzically. "You didn't put them on?"

"Oh, yeah. Right. I knew there was something." She blushed. "I wonder if that beautiful bathroom is still next door?"

"Should be."

She went to change and, yes, the bathroom was still next door.

When she got back, with her new outfit on, scarf tied round her head, the Doctor looked at her in admiration. "You look beautiful!" He smiled. She blushed again and he continued. "I'd ask you to share dinner with me, but it's probably best if you waited and ate with your family. In the meantime though, may I offer you some light refreshment? You must be a little hungry, aren't you?"

"Well, I must confess...I am a little hungry."

"Right." In minutes the Doctor had organised a simple meal of wine, exotic cheeses, crackers and grapes. It was delicious and just enough to take the edge off her appetite.

"Thank you for that Doctor, and for the clothes. It's very kind of you."

"My pleasure." He stood up, bowed, and holding out his hand, said,"Ready? Or should I say...Mrs. Yardley, may I have the pleasure of this dance?"

"Doctor, I'd be delighted!" She answered, with the distinct feeling she'd heard the same words somewhere before. Curious thought, but immediately forgotten, because she was in the Doctor's arms. He'd put his arms around her but, in a moment of shyness, hers were still at her side.

"There." He said, taking Alison's arms and putting them round his neck, "That's better, isn't it?"

She nodded shyly and blushed. She seemed to be doing a lot of that - blushing. She started to relax and enjoy everything, the Doctor's lovely chestnut curls resting on her hands, the music, and the wonderful experience of dancing with the Doctor. She breathed in scents of sandalwood, bayberry, spices, and all sorts of Christmassy scents, courtesy of the Doctor and that exquisite tree.

He paused a moment and pointed up to the domed ceiling. "Alison. Look." He smiled at her. She looked up to see snow falling, big soft perfect Christmassy snowflakes.

"Ahh!" She breathed.

"It'll fall like that for as long as you like." He told her. "It's beautiful, isn't it? I must say, I've no idea how she does it.'

"It's perfect."

"Now where were we?" They danced for hours to some beautiful romantic music. The Doctor confessed that, lately, he'd completely fallen for all of Rod Stewart's romantic CD's, which explained a majority of the selections. The Doctor had chosen "The Way You Look Tonight" to start. Then followed several more. "Isn't It Romantic?", "A Nightingale Sang In Berkeley Square", "The Very Thought Of You" and "These Foolish Things". One of the few "other" pieces caught the Doctor in an impish mood, "Me and Mrs. Jones". "Or should that be..."Me and Mrs. Yardley"?" He teased.

"Oh, Doctor! You are a bit naughty, aren't you?" He grinned somewhat cheekily. She shook her head and laughed. A playful change of pace brought "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus" and "Jingle Bell Rock". The Doctor was back to his impish ways with "Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered", and Alison was back to blushing, just when she thought she'd overcome that. She was not going to forget this Christmas Eve.

"Doctor, you really are naughty!" She teased him.

"Just one of my charms." And there was that supernova grin again, this time slightly lop-sided.

They must have indeed danced all night, with only a few breaks for wine and mince pies. They reprised a couple of favourites, "Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered" with him twirling her out and back to snuggle against that warm soft velvet and "A Nightingale Sang In Berkeley Square" when he pulled her to him, placed his cool elegant hands on either side of her face and said, "Thank you Alison. For a wonderful Christmas Eve and for handling my reality so well. To think, you only fainted twice." She laughed and then, he kissed her. Ohhhh! Every sensibility she had crawled inside that kiss and sighed in sheer bliss. She nearly fainted a third time and would have, but for the Doctor's arms. That kiss! She wouldn't lose the sensation of it for a very long time.

Still a little lightheaded, she smiled at him. "Thank you Doctor. This is a Christmas Eve I won't soon forget!"

"My pleasure. I won't forget it either." He smiled back at her, but he felt a little guilty. He knew the Time Lords would expect him to erase her memory and, while they might be right about that, he didn't have the hearts to do it. She was so happy. What could be the harm in letting her keep the memory of tonight? There were times, many times - oh, all right, most of the time, when he wanted to tell the High Council to go - to put it a bit more politely, take a flying leap! They were just too obsessed with memory loss and secrecy! Well, he wasn't going to take her memory away!

Then he heard her yawn. "Sorry!" she murmured. He said reluctantly, "It seems it's time I took you home."

"Yes, I suppose so." Alison also seemed a bit reluctant. "I guess I'd better change back. I don't suppose too many people go shopping in a pair of lounging pyjamas, do they now?" She grinned.

"No, I don't suppose they do." He smiled.

She left to change, marvelling at that magnificent bathroom one last time.

In the meantime, the Doctor was assembling a gift basket of some of her favourite chocolate goodies as a small parting/Christmas gift. When he was finished, he hid it, so he could give it to her just before they said goodbye. He next took out a sheet of paper to work out the text of a Christmas card to include. He'd just about got it the way he wanted it, when she came back. He stuffed the note in a pocket certain he'd find time to finish it. She placed her pyjamas in one of her shopping bags. She yawned again.

"Why don't you have a nice rest in my chair while I set the coordinates?"

"That would be nice." Almost immediately she fell asleep. He set the coordinates and had just started to go back to his note, when he noticed a warning light flashing on the console. Softly muttering, "Oh Blast!", he went over to check. Fortunately, it was only a minor repair. Minor, but necessary. If not fixed, he could be taking Alison home to the Horsehead Nebula for all he knew. He set about repairs.

"Doctor?" She looked round for him and finally spotted him under the console. "Is there a problem?"

"Almost fixed. Nothing to worry about. Just a worn-out circuit. Easily fixed. Can't have you going home to the Horsehead Nebula or somewhere, can we now?"

"I should think not." She said lightly. "But you can get me home? The TARDIS can do short hops, right?"

"Oh, yes. When everything's working they're not a problem any longer." She still looked a little sleepy. "You can go back to sleep, if you like." So she did.

A little later. "Alison?" He gently shook her awake.

"Wha?"

"We're here. I've brought you just a short distance from Brushtail Close. It's just about teatime, Christmas Eve. I could bring you closer, or do you want to get off here?"

"Here's fine. I don't think I'm in the mood to explain to the neighbours why an old-fashioned police box is right in front of my home."

"Reason enough." He smiled.

"Thank you, Doctor! It's been... Good Heavens! It's still snowing! Is that real snow?"

"I'm not really sure." He paused. "How about one last dance before you put your coat on and leave?"

She laughed. "I'd love it."

The Doctor chose a very appropriate piece - "Let It Snow". He was an extremely easy and enjoyable person to dance with. It was a lovely goodbye. Being in front of the tree, with the snow falling on the domed ceiling, in the Doctor's arms, enclosing her in comfy velvet, the enchanting scents of Christmas in the air, and when he started to softly sing along, it became a moment in Heaven indeed.

But it really did have to end. They knew it was time for her to go when the TARDIS slowly let the music fade and the snow gradually ceased to fall. She could swear there was a hint of tears in the Doctor's eyes and in her own as well.

Like a true gentleman he helped her on with her coat. Then a final hug and a kiss, and as he reluctantly opened the doors, she picked up her bags, turned and said, "Thank you, Doctor. It was... It was..." No superlative seemed adequate.

"Such stuff as dreams are made on." The Doctor finished, echoing his own feelings. The quote from Shakespeare's Tempest seemed to say it perfectly.

Alison laughed. "Exactly. I couldn't agree more." She waved a little awkwardly owing to the shopping bags. He smiled and waved back. Then she left. He watched her walk to her home, closed the doors and using the scanner, heard her greet her family.

It was when he'd dematerialised and was hovering a few miles up, that he realised he'd forgot to give her the basket. "Oh, dear." he murmured. He tuned the scanner to see the outside of her home. He would wait till the lights were off to play Father Christmas. He would see if he could get the dematerialisation noise way down in order to land in her lounge and leave the basket. At least it would give him time to finish her card.

That settled, he had to deal with the other dilemma. If he didn't erase her memory, would the Time Lords do it for him? He wanted to banish that thought clean away. Even they couldn't be that cruel. But should he do it? Erase her memory? He just didn't know. But he didn't want the Time Lords to do it. He reluctantly started the process. First would come a state of confusion when he could still change his mind and she would be a bit confused, but her memory would be intact. But if he started the actual erasure process, he'd be past the point of no return - the final threshold.

A moment or two after, he stopped. He didn't want to do it, but he didn't the Time Lords stepping in either, so he started again. He did that several times, then finally decided to sit down, rest, and think! He hit a control and sat down in his reading chair, so confused he fell asleep, not knowing how he'd left things. With all of the stopping and starting and dithering about, he'd also got the TARDIS so confused she blew a few circuits! She was not amused. Fortunately someone was watching, someone who knew just what to do.

********

Back in Brushtail Close, Alison was getting ready for bed. She put away her lounging pyjamas and slippers. She'd told Andrew she'd bought the things in specialist shops as a Christmas present to herself. It wasn't so much a question of jealousy, it was just that he probably wouldn't have believed her, if she'd told him the truth! She hadn't noticed that somehow the scarf had dropped out and was still in the TARDIS. A little while later she went to sleep and had an extraordinary dream.

********

Father Christmas - with his own magic, landed his reindeer and sledge in the console room. Having the ability to see everything (which normally terrified the bejeebers out of many children - being spied on), in this instance, turned out to be a good thing. He knew the confusion the Doctor suffered and he knew exactly the right thing to do. As he approached the sleeping Doctor, he noticed Alison's red silk headscarf under the chair. It had clearly slipped, unnoticed, out of her grasp when she was putting her things away. He picked it up and slipped it into his pocket, having a novel idea on how to return it. He knew the Doctor was right in not wanting to erase her memory. He also knew that both of them would be quite happy to have the Doctor as a Christmas guest. So he got things ready.

Firstly, he mended the TARDIS's blown circuits. She sighed in relief and he smiled as he set the course back to Brushtail Close. Then, in a moment of silliness, which he knew would be appreciated, he took out a giant stocking and manoeuvred the Doctor into it. He placed the basket (leaving his own explanatory note in it) in one of the Doctor's hands and taking the note out of the Doctor's pocket, he put it in the Doctor's other hand. As a final touch, he removed the grey cravat, put it in the Doctor's pocket, and tied the red silk scarf round the Doctor's neck in a big bow. He put a gift tag on the bow saying, "For Alison". Even Father Christmas had a nutty sense of humour! This way he reckoned the Doctor had to explain things, and they could also spend Christmas together. It would be good for them both. After all they were destined to become good friends. He picked up the whole bundle and put the Doctor and all into the sledge. The Doctor slept clear through the whole affair.

Father Christmas materialised the TARDIS in Alison's lounge. It was very early, about half an hour before sunrise. He carried the stocking and its unique contents to Alison's bedroom and arranged everything at the end of her bed. He smiled, walked over, and after giving her a light Sweet Dreams/Christmas kiss, he left. Once in the TARDIS, and back in his sledge, in his magical way, he left to his next destination, leaving the TARDIS in her lounge.

********

Alison did indeed have a very dreamy dream that night...

She was in the TARDIS. Snow was falling on the domed ceiling of the console room. It fell for hours, but never - apart from the corners, did it accumulate. There was an enormous Christmas tree that reached to the edge of the domed ceiling. The air was scented with a wonderful evergreeny Christmassy smell. She looked down. She was wearing a pair of beautiful red silk lounging pyjamas, matching red velvet slippers on her feet. A long red silk scarf was tied round her head, the bow just behind her right ear, ends dangling over her shoulder.

There was music. "Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered". They were dancing. He twirled her out and twirled her back to him, her back against that wonderful warm soft velvet. They swayed, snuggled together, to the music. It was Heaven.

They danced for hours to a lovely set of songs, including, "Isn't It Romantic?", "A Nightingale Sang In Berkeley Square", "Me And Mrs. Jones", and in a playful mood, "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus" and "Jingle Bell Rock". They paused only to refresh themselves with wine and mince pies.

It was a lovely Christmas Eve. Especially when, beside the Christmas tree, with that nightingale singing in Berkeley Square, the Doctor pulled her to him, placed his cool elegant hands on either side of her face, said "Thank you, Alison!", kissed her and took her breath away!

She woke up, very early, in the middle of that kiss. She could swear her lips were still tingling. The line "Was that a dream or was it true?" running through her mind. She lay there in bed in a daze, very confused. It was the most realistic dream she'd ever had. It took her some moments to accept that it was just a dream. But it was Christmas morning and she had to get up.

She'd taken a few groggy steps, that line still in her head, when she saw it. The largest Christmas stocking she'd ever seen. Was she seeing things? She walked round to the front. No, she wasn't seeing things. There he was, tucked inside, in all his glorious velvet and chestnut curls. In his right hand he held a basket, overflowing with an assortment of chocolate goodies. In his left hand was a note. He was sound asleep. Poor baby. He looked exhausted. In place of his usual grey cravat, he wore a very familiar looking red silk scarf tied in a big bow. Her hand stole up to her head in remembrance of another red silk scarf. A gift tag was dangling from the Doctor's scarf. It read "For Alison".

Before she woke him she read the note. It said:

"Merry Christmas Alison and Thank you!"

Love,  
The Doctor xx

Was that a dream or was it true?

Had she really spent Christmas Eve in the TARDIS with the Eighth Doctor? That definitely looked like her scarf. But she bought her outfit in a shop, hadn't she? Come to think of it - her scarf was missing. And why wasn't she surprised to find that the Doctor was REAL? And thank you for what? Could it be for Christmas Eve with him in the TARDIS? But she remembered spending it with her family. She couldn't have done both, could she? The Doctor could have time-shifted things. She had an infinity's worth of questions. She gently woke him up.

"Doctor?"

"Mm? Wha?" He shifted a bit, slowly opened his eyes, and attempted to sit upright, but instantly realised, he couldn't, owing to the fact that he was ensconced in a giant Christmas stocking?!?! To say he was totally flummoxed, was an understatement! To add to his confusion, he looked up to see Alison, looking distinctly bemused herself. She managed a small, but quizzical, smile as she helped him out.

"How did I?" He looked at the basket. "This is for you, but how?" As he started to remember, he became a bit more coherent. "Last thing I remember I was sitting in my chair in the console room. I was trying to decide whether or not to erase your memory, as the Time Lords would expect me to, or whether to ignore them, as I wanted. I don't know how I left things. I think I must have fallen asleep. But how could I have got here? The TARDIS wouldn't... I don't even see her. Anyway, like I said, this is for you. A little gift to remember me by." He smiled at her.

She sort of absentmindedly took the basket and said "Thank you. Ahm, you had this note in your other hand." She handed him the note. He looked at it, even more baffled, and stuffed it in his pocket.

"I put this in my pocket. I was composing the text of a Christmas card for you. I was going to give it to you with the basket. But I forgot because of that delightful goodbye. Alison, I'm sorry. I have no explanation for how I got here."

"So, the dream I had, those things were REAL?"

"Oh, yes. And I thoroughly enjoyed them. Thank you!'

She thought hard. The confusion was beginning to clear. Especially, when the Doctor handed her the scarf from round his neck. "Here. I believe this is yours."

"Yes, thank you. I realised when I saw it on you that I remembered it was missing. But how?" She looked through the basket of several of her favourite chocolate goodies. "Thank you, but where did you...?"

"There are all sorts of surprises in the TARDIS." He grinned.

"I should have kno...What's this?" She'd found another note tucked in amongst the other contents. She looked at the Doctor with raised enquiring eyebrows. He shrugged.

She opened the note. "It's from Father Christmas?!?! Don't tell me he's real as well?'

"Oh, yes. We're..."

"...good friends, old friends, right?" She gave him a slight smirk. This Christmas would go down in history as the most bizarre...delightful...she wasn't sure how to describe it. She laughed. "Six impossible things before breakfast indeed. I'm finding TWO impossible things is challenge enough!" She shook her head and read the note.

"You're right. She's meant to remember.  
Merry Christmas to you all!"

Father Christmas

P.S. Alison, I found your scarf on the floor under the Doctor's  
chair.

So that was how the Doctor and, as they soon discovered as they went into the lounge, the TARDIS and everything had got into Alison's home.

"He must have "magicked", She indicated the word in inverted commas, with her fingers, "himself and, presumably, the reindeer and sledge inside the console room."

"And, it would appear, that even the Time Lords realise that you should remember. Hmm... He smiled. "It seems I'll be able to attend conventions, properly, after all. A disguise would probably be best, at least at first."

"The Chestnut Girls will be in for a surprise, not to mention a certain "Mr. McGann". And yes, I'm certain he'd want you to call him, Paul." She laughed. "I must say, Father Christmas tying my scarf on you like a big Christmas bow and putting you in a giant stocking was...well...he must have a great sense of humour! That was a nice touch."

"Yes," he said ruefully, "once I got over the shock!" He laughed, but looked somewhat puzzled. "By the way, I wonder where my cravat's got to?"

"Maybe he put it in one of your pockets?"

He looked. "Of course. Obvious place." He replaced it round his neck, tying it expertly.

"I still can't believe this is all real, even though everything is starting to come back. That dream I had last night, it was so real and so confusing."

"Dreams are like that, even though they're meant to help sort things out. It's one of the reasons for sleep, and simply for the necessary rest, of course."

"Speaking of sleeping, I almost didn't want to wake you. You looked exhausted."

"I must admit, I'm not surprised I fell asleep so soundly. Much as I enjoyed it, we did do quite a bit of dancing, and all the dithering over erasing your memory or not, it does tire one a bit. I'm so glad you get to keep your memory. You seemed so happy last night, it would have been a shame to spoil that. Oh, yes, and how was your Christmas Eve with your family? You must have got pretty tired yourself, having two Christmas Eves."

"It was lovely, and yes, I was pretty tired when I went to bed. I told Andrew I bought the pyjamas and slippers in a specialist shop. Not so much a matter of jealousy, it's just that I don't think he'd have believed me if I'd told him the truth!" She laughed.

"And now?"

"Yeah, I'll tell him the truth. After all the proof is right here in the lounge." She laughed and said, "Doctor, would you do me - us, the honour of joining us for Christmas? After all it's not often one has a Time Lord in one's living room, Doctor."

He laughed out loud and replied jokingly, "Now where have I heard that before?" He leant over and, giving her a light peck on the cheek, said, "Thank you, Mrs. Yardley. That would most kind. I'd be delighted!" He gave her the supernova grin, along with a pair of happy dazzlingly twinkly eyes.

********

It was to be a lovely and remarkable Christmas. The Doctor proved to be a witty and enchanting guest. He got well with everyone, and delighted little Aisling in particular. After all, he had an affinity for children and they knew it. Aisling almost wouldn't let him go! It took a while for her to stop crying when he started to leave. So he volunteered, quite happily, to put her to bed. The truth was, he didn't want to say goodbye to her, either!

He cuddled her on his lap and sang to her, Gallifreyan lullabies, and read her favourite Earthly bedtime stories. Her parents stood in the doorway, looking happily on. He promised to see her again and she knew he meant it. Because the Doctor knew, one NEVER broke a promise to a child! She finally dropped off to sleep, happy with her new friend. He put her carefully in bed, and gently dropping a goodnight kiss on her forehead, quietly left to join the others.

********

However, that morning as Alison went to wake her family and change into those red silk lounging pyjamas, the Doctor nipped off in the TARDIS to buy gifts for her family. He brought the TARDIS back to the exact same spot and time as before. He hid the gifts under the tree. They proved to be uncannily apt ("How did he do that?" Alison wondered.) and well liked. He also finished Alison's card and gave it to her just before he left on Christmas night. They said goodbye with enthusiastic bear hugs and heartfelt kisses, so typical of his eighth self's refreshingly affectionate nature. They thanked each other for a lovely Holiday. The Doctor praised her paintings of him and she insisted on giving him his favourite. After all, she hadn't given him a parting/Christmas gift yet! He said thank you - again, with another hug and kiss. He really was the most affectionate person!

********

That night, before she went to sleep, she read the Doctor's card again. The cover showed him dreaming, with elements from their evening in the TARDIS, a red scarf, a glass of wine and a mince pie. The inside cover showed a single snowflake. The date, 2005, as a garland on a tree. The back cover had the copyright symbol and said: 2005 - humanian era - Bowman Designs. The message read:

"Thank you Alison, for a memorable Holiday.  
It truly was "Such stuff as dreams are made on."  
I won't forget you and I look forward to seeing you  
again very soon."

Love,  
The Doctor xx

But that morning, after she'd invited the Doctor for Christmas, as she went to change and wake her family, to explain their extraordinary Christmas guests - an actual alien and a semi-sentient spacecraft, she still couldn't believe it all. She was still thinking: "Was that a dream? Or was it true?"

The End


End file.
